


Same Old Moment

by lookninjas



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode: s04e18 Shooting Star, Gen, references the sadie hawkins dance incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't want to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Old Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know where this came from, apart from Blaine's body language in that scene just in general and my complete inability to quit worrying over the Sadie Hawkins incident trying to figure out what it was and what it did to Blaine and how it affects things in his life now. This gets slightly more graphic than my usual treatment of things; please proceed with caution.

 

It's not until Coach Beiste tells Sam that he's putting everyone's lives in danger that it really hits Blaine, that this is real, that this is happening. It was one thing when it was just Mr. Schue, because Mr. Schue makes a big deal out of a lot of things that don't matter and then doesn't pay attention at all to the things that are really serious. And yes, it's scary, and Blaine is scared, but when Mr. Schue's the one acting like the shooter's going to bust in any second, then it's hard for Blaine not to think that they're probably all going to get out of this just fine.

But. Coach Beiste.

When Coach Beiste says that they could all die, right there in that choir room, then.

Then Blaine feels himself curling in tighter, making himself as small a target as he possibly can, arms up over his head (like sparring at the gym -- always keep your gloves up, _protect the head_ ).

He doesn't want to die.

 

*

 

There was a moment, freshman year, after the Sadie Hawkins dance. He was down on the ground, curled in on himself, arms up over his head. Someone was stomping on his side -- his ribs ached and he couldn't seem to hitch in a breath, didn't have any wind left to be knocked out of him -- and someone was laughing and someone else was crying (oh god Trevor, Trevor), and Blaine realized all of a sudden that he could die like that, right there. He could die in that parking lot, in his dark suit, with his bowtie and the pink carnation in his buttonhole and gravel in his hair. And he'd had some notion of this calm that comes over people when they realize that they're going to die, that there would be some sort of peace, but instead he just felt this impossible desperation, that he couldn't die, he just couldn't die.

And in that panicked moment, he sucked in a huge gulp of air and rolled onto his back and flailed desperately at the khaki-clad leg stomping at him so mercilessly. Just for that one moment, and then there was this... He didn't even feel any pain, just a banging and then a light and then a darkness, and after that everything he remembers is a vague dream-image -- a horn honking, a feeling like he was being raised up and then like he was flying, voices and sirens and then much, much later, his parents hovering over his bedside.

When he's healed enough to realize how messed up he is inside, when he decides he has to learn to fight back if he ever wants to feel safe leaving the house again, when he finally talks his parents into letting him take boxing lessons, there's one thing that no one has to teach him. He keeps his gloves up when he's sparring. He always keeps his gloves up when he's sparring.

 _Protect the head_.

 

*

 

He can't say anything to Artie's camera. He _can't_.

He can't say anything because it feels like if he says anything, he's giving in to the idea that they won't make it out, that they won't survive this, and he can't do that. He can't.

He buries his face in his arms and tries his hardest not to compare this, this silent waiting, to the sound of laughter and the constant, breath-stealing pounding in the parking lot after the Sadie Hawkins Dance, the blows that turned his back from his shoulders to his hips into one large, mottled bruise. There's no way of figuring out which was the worst, and anyway, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he got out of that and he'll get out of this too. They all will.

He tells himself that, over and over. That they'll get out of this. That they'll be safe.

To Artie, he says nothing at all.

Anything he says would sound like _goodbye_ , and he has promises to keep.

 

*

 

The first week after Sadie Hawkins, neither of his parents went to work. They wheeled a little tv into his father's study, and his mother sat on the couch with him while his father worked and they watched tv, and when Blaine was too groggy from the pain meds and too tired and too weird-headed to watch any more tv, they turned the tv off and his mother tucked him in with a blanket and left him there with his father. He didn't sleep a lot; mostly he just closed his eyes and drifted. _Resting_ , his father called it. And Blaine would rest, and drift, and then sometimes he'd doze off a little bit and then come back with a gasp and a jolt, kicking the arm of the couch with his feet, and when he opened his eyes his father was watching him with worried eyes. He never said anything, just watched, and Blaine would start to feel safer, and after a while he'd close his eyes and drift a little again.

Except sometimes, when Blaine woke up, his father was crouching on the floor near the sofa, pushing the hair back from Blaine's forehead. He still didn't say anything when Blaine jolted and kicked and gasped; he just sat there and stroked Blaine's forehead and rubbed his shoulder. It should have made Blaine feel better, but it didn't. Because in those moments, Blaine knew how scared his father really was, and that was a terrible thing to have to know.

So even if Blaine's dad didn't say anything, sometimes Blaine would say "It's okay," or "I'm okay, Dad."

And Blaine's dad still wouldn't say anything, but he'd wrap one arm over Blaine's shoulders (gently, carefully, because of all the bruising) and hold him close.

Part of Blaine missed those moments, when his dad was back at work and preoccupied again.

Part of him was relieved.

 

*

 

Blaine still doesn't know who called his parents after the Sadie Hawkins Dance -- he has a vague idea that it was probably someone from the hospital, but it's really just a guess; he doesn't know for certain.

After the all-clear is sounded, after the lights come up and he's hugged Sam and Brittany and Coach Beiste and everyone else, after he's been buried in the group hug pile, tucked under Sam and Ryder's arms and with some kid he doesn't know pressed up warm behind him and Marley's head bent down so it's almost touching his and so absolutely surrounded and protected that for one or two seconds he can't breathe at all -- after that, he calls his mother.

She picks up on the first ring, breathless and frantic. "Blaine? Blaine, is that you, are you --"

"Hey, Mommy," he says, softly, and she bursts into tears.

 

*

 

He'd never seen his mother cry before that night. Honestly, he was so out of it and confused that it's possible he didn't see her crying at all.

But he remembers how red and puffy her eyes were the next day, so he's pretty sure he did.

It's not surprising that, out of everything he's forgotten about that night, that's one of the things he remembers.

You don't ever really forget a thing like that.

 

*

 

They wait at the school for his father; he shows up half an hour after Blaine's mother does and Blaine's pretty sure it would easier if they just went home and waited for him there, instead of at the school where there's people running around and crying and hugging each other and calling out to one another and car doors slamming and he can't help flinching every time someone bangs their door too loudly and his mother's arm tightens around his waist every time he flinches and it would probably be better to just be home. But his mother's eyes are red and teary and he's not sure how she got to McKinley without wrecking her Audi and he _knows_ he's in no shape to drive, so they stand on the lawn in front of the school, with the SWAT guys still running around in black uniforms, flinching at every loud noise, waiting for his dad.

Of course, when his dad shows up, he's being driven by one of his doctoral students, a pretty girl with dark hair and thick glasses who stays two steps behind his father as he stumbles across the lawn towards Blaine and his mother, like she's waiting to catch him if he collapses entirely (which he looks like he's about to, feels like he's about to when he wraps both arms around Blaine and clings to him like he's drowning, like Blaine is the only thing holding him up). She's still waiting there when Blaine's dad finally eases off a little, pushes Blaine back to arm's length so he can touch Blaine's face and his shoulders and his arms, making sure he's still intact, still whole and real and there, and then hauls him back in again, squeezing him so tight he can barely breathe.

But they need to have at least one car with them back at the house, so Blaine's mom sends the doctoral student back to Columbus (thanking her profusely -- their family is nothing if not well-mannered), and drives them all home in the Audi. Her hands are steady enough on the wheel, even if her eyes are red, and Blaine sags into his father's shoulder in the backseat and tries to make himself realize that they're all okay. That they're all safe. That they're all alive.

He knows it'll take a while before he really believes it, but it's important to start the process early.

 

*

 

Nobody sleeps in his house that night. They sit on the couch in the living room with the tv on, Blaine curled up against his father's side, his mother on the floor with her head on his dad's knee, and they talk, but not really about much of anything. Mostly it's Blaine's father asking questions, like, "Has anyone actually ever said 'No' to the dress?" and Blaine's mother sighing and Blaine smiling into his father's shirt.

After a while, Blaine drifts a little, eyes closed, _resting_ , only to jolt back into consciousness with a gasp, kicking at the arm of the couch.

His mother looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

His father brushes the hair off his forehead and tells him, "You're okay. You're okay now."

 

 

*

 

There was never a question of Blaine going back to his old high school, not after what happened at the Sadie Hawkins dance. It was a week before he could really even get around much on his own, and by the time he was mobile, his parents had already compiled a list of private schools for him to consider, with Dalton right at the top.

He's back at McKinley the day after the gun goes off, holding Tina's hand, watching Kitty go on tiptoe to hug Marley and Unique, cooing over Lady Tubbington (while trying to simultaneously stay out of the reach of her claws), listening to Jake try to convince Ryder that his mystery Catfish Girl is the girl from the string quartet with the trendy short haircut, wheeling Artie to his fifth-period study hall, reaching out to touch the arm of the Cheerio who was trapped in the same bathroom as Brittany. Marley's mom gives him extra tater tots at lunch; Coach Beiste rests her hand on his shoulder every time they pass each other in the hall. Miss Pillsbury asks him how he's doing, and doesn't press him when he says he's fine.

It's harder, in a way, knowing how much he had to lose. That if there really had been a shooter, that if someone really had been -- He could have lost so much more than just his own life.

But he didn't lose anyone, and no one lost him.

There's no starting over this time.

It's just moving on.

He can't be sure whether or not it's going to be easier, but when they're all gathered together on the stage, one family all together, it seems a little less frightening.


End file.
